Expect The Unexpected
by enarcoyufuin
Summary: One plus one equals three? Rating pushed to T because of MY cursing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : [author's note not found. enjoy first miraculous ladybug fic. rate and review. sorry for it being so short-chapters WILL be longer]**

* * *

"A _baby_?!"

"Uh-huh. Just found out today. Wanna check?" Marinette took the stick from her back pocket and handed it to her awestruck husband, who simply gawked at her. His gaze fell to the pink plus symbol, then back to her, and alternated between the two until she was sure he'd get whiplash.

She giggled as she bounced on her heels. After being married to the one and only Adrien Agreste, she had always dreamed of having a baby. The bluenette flashed back to a specific memory of her rambling about having three kids, a dog and a cat-no wait, forget the cat-oh, how she loved hamsters! ' _Wait, what?_ '

Shaking her head furiously, she looked back to Adrien, his face twisted into a manic grin. His emerald eyes shone, with tears or excitement, she didn't know. All she _did_ know was the sensation of her being lifted off the ground and squished into a bone-crushing hug.

Red in the face, she gasped for air as her husband continued to don his familiar Chat Noir grin.

"Adrien! Put...m-me down! Can't-* _gasp_ *-breathe-!"

And with that, he skidded to a sudden halt, letting her go with a guilty expression upon his face. "I apologize, m'Lady."

"Oh, hush, you silly kitty." She booped him on the nose, causing him to give her a small peck on the lips. Marinette flushed for a split second, surprised.

Adrien, on the other hand, had a flurry of thoughts whirl through his head. His face morphed into a worried grimace, then he began to wring his hands.

"What if I'm not a great dad? I mean, I spent most of my life trying to _defeat_ my father, and I haven't learned anything useful from him! Oh, Mari, I don't want them to grow up without the perfect father! And what about our jobs as Ladybug and Chat Noir-" Interrupted by a kiss, she pulled back to look him in the eyes, her hands cupping his face.

"Adrien. You are nothing like your father. You are nothing like Hawkmoth. The Adrien I fell in love in is a sweet, sensible guy who has great hair and an awful taste in puns." The blond chuckled at that. She paused to smile, then continued, "You'll be a wonderful father. Don't ever doubt that. And as for Ladybug and Chat Noir?" Another kiss. "We'll figure something out."

His eyes looked back at her stomach, assumingly flat, yet contained something-no, someone-more than that. He turned her away from him in one sharp movement, placing her back against his chest with his hands encircling her torso.

"You're absolutely right, Mari. Foiled again by the Miraculous Ladybug!" he added in a cheesy voice, placing his chin onto the crown of her head. She burst out laughing, almost losing her balance. An arm shot out and caught her around the waist while green eyes stared into blue, both filled with mirth and laughter.

Though it may have seemed like a challenge before, it was nothing Ladybug and Chat Noir-or Marinette and Adrien Agreste, as they would prefer-couldn't handle.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: As soon as I posted this chapter up on tumblr, an anon decides to give me their bullshit. Well, I've definitely learned my lesson. Telling** ** _me_** **I don't know how pregnancy works. Bull. SHIT.**

 **Anyway, ignore my ranting. Enjoy chapter two, read and review!**

* * *

"My Lady! Are you alright?" Adrien knocked on the door in rapid succession, shifting from foot to foot.

Garbled noises came from behind it, along with the incessant noise of the flush from the toilet.

Marinette had been holed up in the bathroom all morning, from morning sickness, he guessed. He should have been used to this, he supposed, since she was about a month and a half along with their child. _Their_ child.

Pressing his ear to the door, he listened for any more retching. Silence.

"Don't w-worry, k-kitty cat. Urp-I'll be-augh-o-okay." She tried to reassure him, but he barged in anyway. Groaning from the sudden intrusion, she placed her head on the cold toilet seat, nauseous beyond belief.

He got down on his knees and rubbed her back, whispering silent and smooth French into her ear. At his touch, her troubles began to ooze away as she was drenched in overwhelming bliss. She sighed, and he gave a comforting smile.

'That feels nice…' Closing her eyes, she eased up slowly into his hand. Taking her hand in his, he began to lift her up, but then she lurched back into the bowl and emptied her stomach once more.

All he could do now was hold her hair back and watch as she wailed, clenching her slightly larger stomach in pain. Reaching up to the silver handle, he flushed, the other hand occupied with consoling his princess.

Taking a few deep breaths, she shuddered in relief and got up off her knees. Stretching slightly, Marinette trudged over to the sink, pointedly avoiding her reflection, and grabbed her toothbrush.

While she brushed her teeth, he smoothed down her hair, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

A sharp silence hung in the air, the running faucet and bristles of the brush the only noise. Furrowing his eyebrows, he sent a frantic glance her way, secretly asking if she was okay. The bluenette half-heartedly shrugged her shoulders and spat into the basin, turning off the water simultaneously. Facing him again, she did her best to convince him that 'yes, she was alright, even though last night's dinner decided to make a rude awakening', but the smile didn't quite reach her depths of blue.

Frowning, Adrien swiftly turned away and squatted before her with his palms facing in her direction. Accepting his invitation, he grunted softly as she jumped onto his back, her arms hugging his neck and her head nestled in a crook.

Walking her to the kitchen, he placed Marinette in an empty chair and tried his best to clear the table, her sewing needles and fabrics hanging from the edges. She watched as he worked, whistling a familiar tune as he sorted her materials and rummaged through the cabinets.

"I'll make you some breakfast, my treat." She opened her mouth, "And, no, Princess, you can't refuse." She closed it. Like she was going to stop him anyway. He already had about three pans on the stove, and hey, free breakfast from a handsome husband. Who _could_ refuse?

Rubbing her tummy absentmindedly, she took in the smells of fresh eggs simmering, laced with pepper and hints of salt, along with the crispy scent of toast melding in with the waft of smoked sausage. _God_ , he could cook! Only she could be this lucky.

Her mouth watered and he smirked at her, reveling in the moment. If there was one thing he could do better than cheer his Lady up, it was cooking.'Man, I am _good_.' He remained smug as he brought over two steaming platefuls.

Placing one in front of her, she eyed her fork. Quirking his brows, he tilted his head in confusion. Marinette picked up her fork, and threw it behind her before she dug into her breakfast ravenously. Recoiling in horror, Adrien narrowly dodged bits of scrambled eggs flying at his face. Oblivious to her husband's plight, she continued to eat heartily, transforming their kitchen into a war zone.

The plate licked clean and the flight of food cut short, an enormous burp sounded from the petite bluenette. She muffled an 'excuse me' behind her hand, tomato red and embarrassed to the highest degree. Adrien stood as stiff as a statue, blinking erratically. What ravenous beast had he unleashed? He pulled at his hair. ' _What hath science wrought_?' he thought dramatically. Lost in his own thoughts and petrified, he could've sworn he heard his Lady ask for _seconds_.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Double update say what? I finished this chapter just this morning, so it's fresh for your** **viewing eyes! Read and review!**

* * *

Things had been moderately calm for the past month and a half, except for the fact that Adrien had taken on the role of being Mr. Overprotective Mother Hen.

She couldn't go outside without asking him, or telling him where she was going, she couldn't eat the foods she liked (she literally cried when he threw away her desserts and wouldn't talk to him for a week), she couldn't even _sneeze_ without him overreacting.

On top of that, her three month baby bump couldn't fit into any of her old clothes, and fatigue hit her like bricks, so there was no way she could stay up late enough make new ones. And with Mother Hen breathing down her neck…

Tears sprung to her eyes as she curled up on the bed. ' _Why is this so hard? Not like I thought this would be easy…_ ' she sniffed, tears spilling over. "Stupid hormones," Marinette muttered, placing a pillow over her head to block the outside world.

Uncomfortable, she squirmed for a bit, trying to find the right position before she gave up, throwing the pillow across the room in a huff, tears pooling at the edges of her eyes again. She blinked them away as she looked down on herself scathingly, placing a hand to her stomach.

It was then Adrien came in, bedsheets obscuring his vision. A tiny squeak filtered through his ears and he immediately dropped the sheets as if they were hot coals. Maneuvering himself over to his wife's side, he clasped her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

"What's the matter, Princess?" he crooned affectionately, worry lacing his voice. "Did something happen?"

"No...I'm just..being stupid." she assured, voice cracking, averting her eyes so he couldn't see how red and puffy they became.

"Mari, you're not stupid. Anything you say or do could never be stupid. You can tell me, I won't think anything less of you."

"Do you think I'm...pretty, Adrien?"

"Beautiful. May I ask why you asked?"

She waved him off. "No, no, it's just...look at me." She gestured to herself.

"What am I supposed to be looking at? All I see is you, my spectacular Ladybug, my precious Marinette."

At that, she bit her lip. To keep the nausea down or to prevent herself from spilling her guts, maybe both.

She breathed out shakily, unable to hold it all in. "I-It's just that I'm getting so big and it's hard to do stuff now I can't fit my clothes and you won't let me make new ones you big meanie also I can only see half of my feet anymore and-and-I can't _go_ anywhere I feel caged and-and-" she blubbered without pause, causing Adrien to jerk back in surprise, green eyes wide.

"Mari, Mari, Mari, _désolé_ , _désole_ , _désole_." he murmured into her hair, rocking her back and forth. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. And for the "big" problem," she glared at his inability to not make puns, "you're not big, you're _pregnant_. It's part of the process."

Marinette dug her palms into her eyes to stop the flow of tears from reappearing. Her breath hitched as she leaned into him, his arms enclosed in a hug.

"Here's what I'll do. I'll let you go out more," she perked up in barely contained excitement, " _if_ ," she drooped back into the pillow. "you call me from wherever you are." She shot right back up. "Okay, I can deal with that, but something tells me you're not done."

"AND as for the clothes issue," she groaned loudly, her guess hitting right on the money, " _I_ will go buy them myself." The woman cringed in horror, begging him to reconsider. "Ah, ah, ah. This is part of the deal, of which I might add, is non-negotiable." he grinned cheekily at her. "Either I buy them, or I _make_ them. Your choice, my Lady."

She wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face, but she had no choice but to cave in. "Okay, okay, you win." Crossing her arms, she added, "I just don't want you messing with my fabric, that's all."

"Alrighty then." He got up and searched through the closet for his jacket. She eased back onto the bed, inclining her pillows a smidge. Both of his arms in, she heard the jingle of keys. He came back over for a small peck to her temple and he whispered, "Try to get some sleep, okay? Maybe you could invite Alya over when you wake up."

She nodded sleepily and burrowed herself under the covers.

Another minute, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Longest chapter yet. Enjoy. I'm sorry I haven't updated this story for a while... ;_;**

-00000-

"Girl, why didn't you tell me you had a bun in the oven? I thought you had disappeared on me!" Alya squeezed her as tightly as she could manage.

"There's many reasons for _that_ ," Marinette sighed, exasperated. "One of them being that my husband won't let me go outside for extended periods of time. Another being that I can no longer fit in my clothes. I promise I was going to tell you, Alya, I swear!"

"Mhm," Alya agreed skeptically, eying her best friend suspiciously. "So, how far along are you?"

At the change in subject, Mari eagerly jumped up, almost tripping over herself in the process. A heavy blush settled on her face as the redhead glared at her, ombre eyes scanning her feverishly for the slightest injury.

"Alya, I'm fine!" She ducked under the covers away from her friend's prying eyes. Flooded with relief, she exhaled roughly before the blankets were snatched off of her frame, disorienting her with a flash of bright light.

Giggling maniacally, her best friend paraded around her bedroom with her blankets on her head, masquerading as some makeshift superhero. With one eyebrow raised, Marinette stared her down with her arms folded across her chest, trying her darndest to look menacing.

Alya stood awkwardly in the corner, cheeks sucked in to stop herself from laughing at the bluenette. Her gait was slightly off considering her stomach, so her hands hung limply at her sides, unable to tuck themselves in fully. A small peep, then raucous laughter echoed through the room as both best friends guffawed at one another with tears of mirth dotting the edges of their vision.

"You look ridiculous!" They both intoned, leaning onto one another as support. As the previous mood began to die down, Alya pulled her into a hug, closing her eyes as she felt Marinette relax into the embrace. A sturdy ahem brought them both back to attention as they took in the sight of the unnoticed newcomer, the blond looking slightly uncomfortable in exchange.

"Adrien! What is the matter with you? You could have gave poor Marinette a heart attack!" Stomping over to him, the redhead's hands found their way to her hips, a grating look on her face as she hounded the unsuspecting hero. From the bed, Marinette chuckled as she watched her average-built friend poke her finger into the chest of her husband, who stood at least a head taller than her.

Flustered, all Adrien could do was stand there and pretend to agree with her wholeheartedly. From being married to one, he's learned that women are always right, even if proven otherwise. His arms aching from the name brand bags hanging off of them like drapes, he soldiered on with a strained smile on his face, bearing the onslaught of his wife's most valued confidant.

"Oh, Alya, lay off! Can't you see that poor _Adrikins_ ," he winced at the ill-advised nickname, "is suffering? Let the man breathe already!" After one last warning glare, Alya pushed up her glasses in an act of defiance, then plopped down on the bed with a mock huff for drama's sake.

Straining to hold in her laughter once again, blue-grey eyes focused on the pile of bags to the way her hubby's knees began to knock against one another in protest. Rolling her eyes, she beckoned him over with an inching of her index finger. One step on a wayward shoelace and the next minute he was sprawled face first all over the lush carpeting, clothing flying everywhere.

"Don't tell me a little shopping outdid the one and only Chat Noir?"

"No, I just happen to have really bad luck. It's kinda my shtick, y'know?"

"Sure, pretty kitty." Marinette tried her best to peer around him. "So, what'd you buy? Please, let it not be embarrassing in any way, shape or form."

Picking up an article of clothing, Alya gave the item a long look before making a face and flinging it halfway across the room. The reporter stuck rummaging through the rest, Marinette focused her glare at Adrien, who looked downright insulted at the violation.

"Adrien, _sweetie_ , you've been a model all these years, wore skin-tight leather to fight bad guys, and yet you can't pick out a well-coordinating maternity outfit? For shame, Mr. Agreste. For shame." Shaking her head frantically, Alya crossed her arms in an act of disapproval.

"I'm pretty sure I know what fashion is, thankyouverymuch. And this," he gestured to the pile, "is fashion, if I do say so myself."

As the two bickered back and forth, Mari took it as her cue to slink out. Tiptoeing downstairs, she turned on all the lights in her work room, eyes centered on a special drawer.

' _What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?_ ' She pondered as she pulled out a sweater, a secret project she had been working on without Adrien's permission. Red with patches of black lining the sides, it reminded her of her days as Paris' masked heroine. Plus, she made sure to add just the right amount of cotton to make it extra snug.

Draping it over herself, she hummed in merriment as she took a good look in the mirror. The less than prominent baby bump hid well under the fabric, giving her a sense of normalcy that she hadn't seen in the months prior, retaining a semblance of a normal appearance. Hopping side to side in a makeshift victory dance, she switched off the lights and made a beeline for the bedroom, the two's arguments hanging in the air.

Hoping to crawl in without making a sound, she got down on her hands and knees shakily, her balance slightly thrown off by the extra weight. Grunting softly, she strained to lift her head. With a strange gait in her movement, her palms hesitantly touched the hardwood flooring, her mouth pulled into a grimace at the cold sting.

 _Almost there!_ She gulped anxiously as she reached out for the comforter lying haphazardly on the edge of the bed. Her arms ached persistently, her knees shifting her closer to her goal. Then…

 **CREAK.** She flinched. " _Merde_ ," she whispered as the heated argument in the background faded into nothing.

"Mari?" Muffled footsteps hurried around the bedside and vibrant green eyes stared at her in confusion. "What're you doing on the floor?" In search of an answer, cerulean eyes darted to her friend, who was occupied with leaning over Adrien, more or less asking the same question with her eyes.

"I...was...euh-" _Think, think, think! Ah!_ "...looking for something under the bed! Eh-heh…" To confirm her story, she swept her arms under the bed frame as if she were desperately searching for an imaginary item.

Both Alya and Adrien sweatdropped at her grasping thin air, but he outstretched his hand and slowly lifted her up, both of them sighing and shaking their heads.

"Mari, if you wanted something, you could have asked one of us! You really need to take it easy-"

"No, Adrien. I'm not a glass figurine. I won't break that easily!" She scowled, making a face and glaring at her husband, whose frown lines creased his forehead. "It's like you barely trust me to do the simplest of tasks, and I'm sick of it!" She threw her hands up in the air wildly, trying to prove her point through embellished hand motions.

Alya stumbled over her words in means of intervention. "G-Girl, remember, we're just looking out for you!" she argued, but a frigid gaze cut her off.

"Adrien, I'm _pregnant_ , not _dying_. At least you should be able to understand that I'm still a human being with needs." A brief pause, then her tone grew condescending. "And Alya, I'd never thought I'd see the day when you'd be agreeing with him."

"Mari-"

"Save it, both of you." Blinking rapidly, the bluenette slipped out of bed and rushed through the door, slamming it on her way out.

He moved to go after her, but felt his foot catch something, finding a red spindle lying unattended on its side. Picking it up, his eyes widened as an epiphany came to light in his mind.

"Mari…" his voice broke. Alya placed a solemn hand on his shoulder as a means of comfort, both pairs of amber and emerald staring at the once open door.

-00000-

 **A/N: holy shit where did this drama come from this was supposed to be a romantic comedy...?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Man, these chapters are getting longer and longer, like I promised. Huh. Enjoy.**

-00000-

Marinette moved surprisingly fast. Still holding the spindle, Adrien ran after her, Alya not too far behind. "Where could she have gone?" He checked the bathroom, the closet, the basement, the guest bedroom, and the attic. Stopping in the kitchen briefly for a breather, the blond held his head in his hands, exhaling sharply. He messed up, big time. Inching his eyes open, he noticed that he had lost a specific person along the way. ' _Alya!'_ He facepalmed as he trekked back up the stairs, retracing his steps with each frustrated stomp.

Was it wrong to look out for his wife, his pregnant wife no less? He had to admit that he had been too harsh on her. But he had apologized, wasn't that supposed to make everything dandy again? ' _I assumed the role automatically in no regards to how she felt about it.'_ He winced. ' _You idiot! You've gotta make it up to her, no matter what it takes!'_ He nodded in agreement to his train of thought and sped up in his search.

"Where could they be? I suppose wherever Mari is, Alya would be there too…" Scratching his chin with an inquisitive frown, he shoved his free hand into his pocket, remembering the spindle. Pulling it out, he lit up. "That's right! Marinette's workroom. Why didn't I think of that before?" Sliding down the railing, he dismounted, landing on his feet (you should've seen this coming, come on, it's _Chat_ for crying out loud-) and heading towards a red door, the only non-white thing in the hallway. Before knocking, he placed an ear near the door, hearing hushed voices punctuated with sniffles and sobs.

His heart constricted regretfully in his chest, scolding himself for making his Princess cry. Eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears broke his resolve as he sat outside, head between his knees, listening to the quiet consolation behind the door.

Smearing his tear tracks with his palms, he slowly stood and knocked on the door in the rhythm of "Shave and a Haircut" to indicate he meant no harm. The conversation coming to a standstill inside, Adrien began to sweat, the overwhelming silence getting to him. Alya, with a glower, cracked the door open a margin, only sticking her head out. Attempting to peer over her, which should have been effortless, he lifted himself up on his toes (he hasn't had to do that in a long time, his poor toes), catching a glimpse of navy blue before she pulled him down by his collar, the bones in his feet cracking loudly upon impact with the floor.

Hissing in pain, Adrien sucked in his bottom lip, biting it hard enough to stop himself from screaming, but also enough to draw blood. ' _Never again_ ,' he vowed, concentrating on the redhead while trying (and failing) to ignore the rhythmic pulsing of his soles. "Is she okay? I didn't mean what I said-can I see her? Please?" he begged. He would have gone on his knees as well, but was afraid of straining anywhere else unnecessarily. ' _I'm not even that old!'_ He groused, his face crinkled. ' _Twenty-seven isn't old…'_

" _Hellooo?_ Earth to Mother Hen!" He jolted, sending a fresh wave of pain from his feet to his spine. Smothering another outburst, he swallowed it, forcing a smile between a grin and a grimace. "O-kay…" she trailed off, freaked out immensely. Leaning inward, she called, "Mari, do you want him to come in, or to tell him to buzz off?" "Hey!" He cried, clearly insulted.

The woman in question squeaked out an affirmative before Alya ushered him in, closing the door in her wake. "Alright, you two. Make up." Shoving Adrien roughly to Marinette's prone form, she grabbed a beanbag from a random closet and pushed it under him, causing him to topple backwards.

"OW!" His feet protested as his butt was lit aflame in agony. ' _What the hell? I'm friggin' Chat Noir! I shouldn't be pushed around and winded like this!'_ He panicked. ' _Am I getting rusty?'_

"Focus!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" Alya's frightening when she's frustrated, he decided.

"Alright, now, we're going to go through this like the _adults_ ," she stressed out, glaring at Adrien who blew her a raspberry, "we are." Voice softening, she clasped Marinette's hands in her own. "Mari, you can go first."

Nodding sluggishly, the French-Asian faced him with red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks, making his heart clench once more at the sight of her melancholy expression.

"Adrien, I-I just wanted to be me. I understand you want the best for me and our baby. Even though that's true, I should be treated like the adult I am." Alya nodded behind her. "Yes, I am pregnant. But I'm Marinette too. Designing is my passion! And you and all people should know that Paris means _everything_ to me." ' _As Ladybug and as Marinette.'_ "My parents, my friends, the city, and especially you. Being cooped up in here with kwami who constantly come and go to who-knows-where is tiring. I just want things to be...normal."

Her friend stared at her in puzzlement at the mention of kwami, but made no input as she finished.

She warily waited for an answer, anticipating a reaction from her husband. To soothe her nerves, her hands caressed her belly, soothing herself and bringing a small smile to Alya's face.

"Mari, I-I've been such an idiot, I know. Keeping you sheltered inside seemed like the best idea at first, but now I see the toll it's taken on you. How I could have been so blind, I wonder." Sighing, he continued. "And I hope that you can forgive this meathead for what I've said and done. You need to breathe, and I'll make sure to do everything in my power to provide more leniency for you." Lowering his aching eyes from the tears he had shed beforehand, his visage looked identical to his wife's.

' _This silence is killing me.'_ Head tilting to the side, he made to get up, but something forcefully crashed into his side, barely allowing him to squeeze out an "oof" before he hit the ground harshly with a resounding thump.

' _Again, REALLY? Now I know I have to sign up for a gym membership immediately…'_

He was called back to attention by fervent nuzzling, Marinette clutching onto his shirt for dear life, face plastered into it, sobbing at the top of her lungs. Arms flew around her, pulling her body closer to him without hesitation. "Shh, it's alright, Mari. Let it all out."

Hiccuping after each wail, her crying tapered off as she sat in his lap, feeling complacent as her tears subsided. "Does this mean that all is forgiven?" He started weakly, in which she hit him playfully on his forearm. Kissing him on the cheek, he got all the answers he needed.

"I knew you guys could never stay mad at one another for long! Lovebirds until the very end, as always!"

" _ALYA!"_

-00000-

 **yay for reconciliation and doses of humor! i hope it gets lighter from here, i've got five or so chapters to go and i'm updating this story instead of an eye for an i, too! if you enjoyed it, please review! maybe i'll get to write faster!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: why do i always make this lovely couple bicker with one another, yet have fluffy and comedic moments, i'll never know. someone come and dissect me to find out. oh, and € means euros, kiddies, not american dollar bills. anyway, enjoy. chapter seven is coming soon. and it's pronounced SEE-len. (Sièlene)**

-00000-

 _RING! RING! RING! RING! RIN-!_

"Adrien?" she called out to him. "I'm occupied at the moment, can you get the phone, please?"

" _Sure thing! One second._ "

Ever since their reconciliation months ago, Marinette's smile had taken a permanent residence on her face. Even though the tendency to be protective remained in him, he managed to give her space, which she was eternally grateful for.

Currently in her workroom, she paced, wondering what was missing from her latest design. As the evenings came sooner and the winds began to pick up in intensity, she was struck with inspiration for an autumn collection. On occasion, Adrien would peek in now and then, the nosy kitty. Shooing him away became a chore and she couldn't afford to be distracted while she was immersed in the zone. So, sometimes, she did let him stay.

Upstairs, the house phone continued to ring, sparking irritation in Marinette. Grinding her teeth in annoyance, she called again. "ADRIEN!"

" _I got it, I got it!_ " Footsteps, then silence.

' _Phew! Back to business. Should I use satin? Or polyester?'_

Distracted with her musings, she failed to hear a hurried pitter-patter running down the steps before the door flew open, slamming against the wall.

With a yelp, she jumped up, spilling all her pins all over the floor. ' _Great. More work._ ' "Adrien!" She eased her way around the pile to stare at her husband. "What did I tell you about knocking? You scared the stuffing out of me!"

"I-*gasp*-apologize, m'Lady." he coughed for air as his hands fell to his knees, breathing erratically. She caught him muttering about "going to a gym ASAP" but she had no time to dwell on that.

"Adrien, what is SO important that you had to burst into the door with enough force to send me to the afterlife?" One hand on her racing heart, Mari waited impatiently for his response.

"Dr. Sièlene called. She called to remind you that you have an upcoming ultrasound on Tuesday." No answer. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Tch, no, I didn't!" Her eyes shrunk to pinpricks, shifting back and forth nervously as she simultaneously twiddled her thumbs. She felt his piercing glare and began to sweat. "U-Ultrasound on Tuesday? Sure, I remember that, heh! When is that, two days from now?"

"Tomorrow," he deadpanned. Opening his calendar app, he pointed at a date colored in red. "See? Tomorrow."

Her hands in her hair, Marinette fumbled for excuses, _anything_ , but ultimately gave up. "I guess I _did_ forget…"

"Tsk, tsk, Mari. How do you forget your five month ultrasound? In my opinion, this is the most important one." He was awarded a blank stare in return. "We get to find out the sex of the baby, bug-brain!"

"Hey! Don't call me that!" She pouted. "I was just so in the zone that it-"

"Slipped your mind?" he supplied, waving the phone in front of her face, taunting her.

"Yeah, sure. But before you lecture me, take a gander at this!" She scurried to the back where a bleak blanket shrouded a mannequin, the edges tattered from overuse. She tugged on it with a flourish and grinned cheekily at the sharp intake of breath behind her.

Before him seemed like an ordinary sweater dress, but a double-take allowed him to see the delicate stitching of the sleeves-red, green, and black, he noted, lined up to the shoulder creases. The chest had all the colors together in a pinwheel-like fashion smack-dab in the center, connected to the seams on the sides. The dress was cropped at knee-length, the edges crimped and folded inwards, giving him a sense of familiarity _. 'This is similar to the sweater she wore months ago. It's amazing…'_

"Ta-da! Here's what I've been working on! It took me forever to get the stitching just right, and I did end up pricking my fingers a whole lot to make it. And all I seem to be making is clothing with this color scheme, sooo...what d'you think? Too much?"

"I think it's absolutely breathtaking, Mari. This could make anyone forget about an important date!"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you patronizing me?"

"No, no, I really mean it. Scout's honor."

"Adrien, I'm 100% sure you were never a scout."

"Point taken. But truly, Mari, I love it." Walking up to her, he left a lingering kiss on her nose before he stood to the side, the two looking at her finished product together.

"What color do you think the baby would like?" She murmured against him. "We can't leave that guest-bedroom-turned-nursery white and barren."

"Well, that's what this ultrasound is for. If we find out the sex of the baby, I'll finally know what colors to buy at the hardware store." He brought her over to a chair and sat her down. "What d'you think it'll be?"

"A boy." Marinette claimed with no hesitation. "Why not a girl?" He replied.

"Mother's intuition." She tapped her temple knowingly. " _Maman_ knows her babies, and this one," a hand on her bump. "is definitely a boy." A flutter under her palm made her stagger.

"Oof!" 'What was that?' In place, she focused on that one spot intensely, waiting for that particular feeling to re-emerge. 'There!'

"Mari? You okay, Princess?" Frowning, he took a good look at her, probing her for the problem.

She bit her lip (a new habit of hers) as tears burned her eyes. Gazing up at him, she let a smile creep towards the edges of her eyes, freely flowing tears trailing down her face.

"What's the matter?" Deeply concerned, his eyes grew wild, pressing for any response, anything at all.

"They... _moved_ ," she whispered, her hand frozen in time. Taken aback, the blond held back his own tears as he croaked, "N-No way. May I?"

Nodding happily, she took his hand and and cupped it over where her own once was. The bluenette would have never thought she'd see the face her husband made at that exact moment in her lifetime. His proposal, their wedding, her surprise. The pure radiance of his awestruck expression when the little one greeted him sent Marinette into a whole new round of silent sobbing. The jubilation lasted a while, never fading as they both sat there peacefully. Periodically, she'd feel a kick and notify him, with giddy squealing following each and every one.

"This proves it, Buggy!"

"Proves what? And don't call me that."

He ignored her. "That our girl here is athletic as they come!"

" _Girl_? Sorry, Adrien, but I'm pretty sure the little bugger's a _boy_."

"Girl."

"Boy."

"Girl."

"Boy!"

"Girl!"

"Boy!"

" **GIRL!** "

" **BOY!** "

"Okay, okay, let's not ruin the moment here." Glaring at each other, the tension in room became heavy.

"€20 says it's a girl."

"€30 and it's a deal."

"Deal. Until tomorrow, then."

-00000-


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: beware of my gratuitous french. i'm sorry, i'm just a french ii student- *gets pelted with rotten fruit***

 **okay, i'll be honest here-part of the french mari (and by extension, adrien) used is from google translate, part from my own knowledge, and part from my french dictionary. i'm ashamed to admit that (feel free to correct me if anything's wrong btw. i appreciate that). anyway, enjoy. and to be gracious, i'll put the translations after each sentence. that way we can all be happy. and yes, quick updates ARE the best.**

-00000-

"Aw, Bugaboo, are you still mad that I won the bet?"

" _Ne me appelle pas Bugaboo. Plus, je ne parle pas de toi_." _(Don't call me Bugaboo. Plus, I'm not talking to you.)_

"Then why'd you answer me?"

"..."

"Gotcha." She stewed in her anger before she disappeared into her workroom. It had been three days since they had stopped by Dr. Sièlene's office and they had been equally shocked when Marinette's "mother's intuition" had been wrong. Flashing his signature Chat Noir leer at her (eyes squinted, all 32 teeth on display with an optional waggle of the eyebrows), she slapped wadded up bills into his awaiting palm, the doctor's baffled countenance making their interaction all the more amusing. And to rub salt in the wound, he requested multiple copies of the ultrasound to hang around the house (and his home and work offices especially).

Fuming three days later, she refused to talk to him even in English, refusing to give him attention. His begging and pleading hardly broke her resolve, her nose in the air and her head high at the sight of him.

"C'mon, Buginette! If I make you your favorite snack," -shudder- "will you forgive me? Please? _Ple-ee-ease_?" ' _If I only had my cat ears…_ '

" _Carotte-banane quiche avec un légume-anchois smoothie?_ " _(Carrot-banana smoothie with a vegetable-anchovy smoothie?)_ Sounding lenient but wavering, she never opened the door in her prolonged protest, adding venemously, " _Ne. Me. Appelle. Pas. Buginette._ " _(Don't. Call. Me. Buginette.)_

"Alright, alright. As long as you accept my apology meal, my Lady." Strolling into the kitchen, he unhooked his apron and rolled up his sleeves, sending a short prayer in the process. He hoped to every deity that existed that he wouldn't pass out, gag, vomit, or even _die_ preparing this "meal". ' _Maybe I'm overreacting a bit. Marinette's cravings sure are strange, though. I'm just glad she didn't ask for the-_ '

" _Ah, et puisque tu fais cela_ _à_ _moi et tout,_ _Adrikins_ ," -twitch- " _Peux-tu ajouter des olives, craquelins, et sauce tartare a la quiche?_ _Merci_ ~" _(Oh, and since you're making it up to me and all, Adrikins, can you add olives, crackers, and tartar sauce to the quiche? Thank you~)_

' _I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die_ _ **I'M GONNA DIE-**_ ' Moping mentally, he rummaged through the drawers for a pair of rubber gloves and a clothespin. After gathering all the condiments and ingredients necessary, he busied himself by prepping the oven and plugging in the blender. ' _Lord have mercy on my soul...this is a_ cat _-tastrophe._ ' (making puns on the way to his deathbed...brave, but stupid. give the guy a medal.)

" _Adrien! Adrien? O_ _ù est-ce minou?_ " _(Adrien! Adrien? Where is that kitty?)_ Head peeking into the kitchen, all Marinette could see was the one and only Adrien Agreste, husband of Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Agreste (a mouthful if i've ever seen one), sprawled onto the tiled floor, motionless and barely breathing.

His clothes splattered with stains of all kinds, not even his flawless hair was spared. The clothespin a few inches away must've been knocked off his nose when he keeled over and his rubber gloves were no more. The blond's tongue poked out of his mouth and she had gotten a sudden urge to draw 'X's on his eyelids. On the table to his right was her _heavenly_ meal, ready for the taking. ' _He'll be fine._ ' She fought a devilish smirk, stepping over him and grabbing the tray. ' _Revenge is best served with a side of vegetable-anchovy smoothie._ ' Joyfully gulping down half of her drink, she skipped out of the room and down the steps (or tried to, anyway, but it looked like a hop at best).

Groaning as he lifted himself up, Adrien blinked, bleary-eyed. His legs felt like pinpricks and his head, fuzzy. ' _What hit me? Oh right, I guess the stench must've knocked me out._ ' He facepalmed bashfully, recoiling at the sliminess of the tartar sauce that somehow got all over his face. ' _Stupid tartar sauce, stupid enhanced sense of smell. I need a shower and possibly an aspirin…_ ' At the state of the kitchen, he groaned again and went in search of a mop. ' _But first, I need to clean this mess. Boy, this should be entertaining. A Lucky Charm would've been a blessing right about now. Even a Miraculous Cure…_ '

" _Adrien? C'est toi? J'ai entendu gémir et je savais qu'il devait être._ " _(Adrien, is that you? I heard groaning and I knew it had to be.)_

"I know you're laughing at me, Marinette! Ha, ha, very funny! I don't see what's so a- _peel_ -ing." He spat as he threw a banana peel into the compost, resuming his mopping.

Loud laughter from the brunette in question echoed up the steps leading to the basement. " _Ce n'est pas drôle,_ " _(It's not funny,)_ he trailed off, wiping the counter with renewed vigor. She came up the stairs at a sloth's pace, holding the tray and cup neatly as she shakily kept her balance. How she managed to do that without falling, he'd never know.

Embarrassed and afraid to make eye contact, he moved automatically, engaging in a staring contest with the newly-polished marble. Tossing her dishes in the sink, she leaned over him and grabbed a clutter of pots, pans, used utensils, and a wayward baking sheet, throwing them in as well. Running water and scrubbing followed soon after.

He piped up. "Mari, you don't have to do that. We have a dishwasher, y'know."

" _Mais je voulais…_ " _(But I wanted to...)_ she countered, handing him a wet plate. Using the nearest dishrag, he dried it carefully and left it in an empty spot in the rack. This soon became a pattern, and between washing and drying, the perfect opportunity to spark a conversation arose. "So," Adrien began, "did you enjoy your, um, lunch?" Fighting the urge to gag, he swallowed the taste of bile and grabbed a piece of Tupperware, drying it.

" _Oui._ " That was all.

"Um...oh! I'm glad." She hummed in agreement and lathered the last tablespoon with soap.

' _Awkwardness...so...unbearable…_ ' Where the hell are kwami when you need them?

"Don't beat yourself up, okay? I was never really mad at you." She wiped her hands sheepishly, switching back to English at last. Marinette wrung her hands. "Mood swings, amirite?"

"No worries, it'll take more than that to get me down. Though I desperately need a shower, eugh. Mind joining me, Princess?" That familiar Chat Noir leer appeared briefly before she plucked his forehead in jest.

Laughing amicably amongst themselves, the blond pulled her closer to him and kissed her passionately, feeling his _petite princesse_ kick against his side. "Aw, I guess she wants a kiss too." Lowering himself to his knees, he also kissed her stomach softly, earning another kick in response. She giggled at the sight. "She hasn't met you yet and already she loves her daddy."

"I hope she does, Mari. With all my heart."

-00000-

 **A/N: SURPRISE FLUFF ATTACK**


End file.
